Cold
by kimihime97
Summary: Masaomi's lips were ice cold that morning, too. Some Masaomi/Mikado angst. Mild sexual situations


**I was searching around for prompts to get back into the writing mood. So, this showed up.**

 **Tumblr prompt: Ice-cold**

He showed up when it was raining outside. Raining was an understatement, really.

He came over when it was _pouring_ outside. Mikado had let him inside right away, no questions tumbling from his lips like they usually would.

He was used to this.

Masaomi sat down in the center of Mikado's living room, cracking a small smile as he apologized for not calling first. Mikado let the apology roll past him effortlessly.

Masaomi never called before he came over like this.

Masaomi's clothes were freezing and soaked as Mikado carefully pulled them off of him. He had to keep his blue eyes on anything but his best friend, had to keep himself distracted. Masaomi was rambling and Mikado only half listened, stepping back and looking away as the other boy stood up to remove his soaked jeans. The fell to the floor in a wet heap and the blond picked them up, handing them to Mikado.

Masaomi's fingers were freezing when they brushed against Mikado's, but the spark that ran down his spine and spread through every nerve in his body was hot. So terribly hot.

He excused himself to take Masaomi's clothes to the washer. It was the only place he could catch his breath, leaning against the washer, hands gripping it so hard that his knuckles ached.

 _One...two...three..._

When he came back to the living room, Masaomi had pulled out his futon, and the lights had been shut off. Mikado lingered for a second, barely able to make out Masaomi's body in the dark. The blond must have seen him, though, because he called to him softly, in a voice that Mikado swore he'd never get used to.

"Come here, Mikado."

It was too soft, too gentle, but had Mikado slipping out of his clothes like every time before. The questions returned, bubbling up his throat and making home on the tip of his tongue, but they were silenced when Masaomi's ice cold fingers met his skin once he had slipped under the blanket. Masaomi's entire body was cold and Mikado shivered into it, letting himself be consumed by the freezing hands that roamed his skin and the freezing lips that nipped their way down his neck.

The questions never came afterwards. They never did. There was something that kept Mikado from breaking the silence that followed after their love making. Masaomi pet Mikado's sweat matted hair slowly, his fingers cold, but no longer freezing. Mikado felt hot all over, but Masaomi's skin was still cold against his. He only got up once, and that was to move Masaomi's clothes into the dryer, before he took shelter underneath the blankets with his best friend again.

Masaomi had probably gotten into a fight with his girlfriend. The only time he ever came over was when that happened, when he and Saki couldn't stand to be in the same room. Mikado didn't exactly understand it, why they'd stay together when Masaomi came back to him so often. Mikado wondered if he should feel proud.

The pride was washed away by guilt, and then shame. Masaomi didn't love him, not the way Mikado would silently hope, at least. Whatever they had was...complicated. It was twisted and wrong, much like everything they did. It was theirs, though, and Mikado knew deep down that it was the only thing they had left.

Masaomi's love was kind of like ice. It was there and it froze you to the very core, but it melted slowly, leaving you wondering just where it went.

Masaomi left early in the morning, when he still thought Mikado was asleep. He had learned to get up early just for these times, but Mikado had learned to get up earlier. Or maybe he hadn't slept at all.

He listened to the sound of the other getting his clothes, listened to the light laughter that came from the blond as he called Saki to let her know he was okay. Mikado felt the sharp tug at his heart, felt his stomach churn.

Masaomi came back to the living room, pausing, like he did all the time. He knelt down, pressing his lips to Mikado's cheek for a small, fraction of a second, and then he left the apartment.

Mikado would get a text later, probably a request to hang out with Masaomi and Saki. The irony of it all made him smile a bit, touching the place where Masaomi's lips had touched.

Masaomi's lips had been ice cold that morning, too.

 **That got a lot sadder than I planned. i'm so sorry. Review?**


End file.
